


Far Too Young To Die

by FantasiaV



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Forbidden Love, M/M, War, probably seven year itch but my history knowledge is complete shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 14:30:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5629837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasiaV/pseuds/FantasiaV
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's love. It's intoxicating, infuriating, and forbidden.<br/>Based off of the titular Panic! at the Disco song. Gilbert's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Far Too Young To Die

**Author's Note:**

> HUGE SHOUT OUT to Kieren who made an 8tracks for this fic  
> http://8tracks.com/natarlovskaya/the-prussian-blues-have-dissipated

When I wake up, Roderich is in my bed. His dark brown hair falls on the pillow we share and our bodies, our arms and legs, have become entangled into one. The morning light hits his face at just the right angle. Oh who am I kidding? Roderich is the type of guy who looks great in all types of lighting. Whether his cheekbones are accentuated by dim campfire or his amethyst eyes are given an almost jewel-like appearance in the bright sun.  
Kissing him is an act of its own. When it comes to kissing him, I have no free will. I don’t think. I don’t hesitate. I don’t question what the consequences will be -- of that one kiss or of our love as a whole.   
Before I know it, my lips are on his. He tastes of morning breath, but it’s still sweet. I don’t know how he does it.  
“Mm… Gil?” He stirs briefly. He draws closer towards me.  
“Morning Princess.” I watch him blink, once, twice. Does he know how beautiful he is? Does he   
know what he does to me just by blinking?  
I press another kiss to his forehead.  
“I have never so adored you.”  
“Someone has become quite the romantic today.” He smiles.  
“No, really.” I search for any comparison I can. I want him to know how much he means to me, how much I have fallen in love with him. But it’s a struggle to convey that. I’m twisting allegories now, but there is no allegory that could hold a candle to the blazing fire that is my love. God, that sounds cheesy. See what he does to me? He makes me want to kiss him more. He makes me want to hug him and hold him tight until the end of time comes.  
But it’s a forbidden love. We both know that. God forbid we are caught. God forbid anyone find us, half naked and sharing a bed. Every minute we spend together is equivalent to a minute digging our own graves. But we can’t help it. I can’t, at least. I want to complicate him. I want this horrible, dreadful mess of politics and forbidden romance. I can’t stop.  
Roderich truly deserves all the credit. He can’t stop either, but he can at least bring himself to attempt stopping. He raises a hand to me, stopping me from kissing him again. A new dawn has come and Roderich is beginning to shed his affectionate lover persona for the stoic leader that his military needs. The hand he raises shushes me effectively.  
“Don’t let me do this to myself,” he whispers. He doesn’t want to be caught. Smart, brilliant Roderich always knows what to do, how to act, and where to draw the line. He knows when to stop. That’s Roderich, for you.  
But me? I’m chasing roller coasters. I want something big and exciting. I want to take what we have and get more. Like an investor in too deep... or, better yet, a drug addict.  
He attempts to get up, but I refuse to let him leave my side. He wants to be farther, but I have got to have him closer. It’s an actual need. Roderich has become my dark, forbidden drug. When I look at him, I become high on the endless romantic stories we could share. As implausible as these stories are, I long for them. And so I long for Roderich Edelstein.  
It isn’t long before he settles back into bed. His arms are on my waist and his head is settled in the crook of my shoulder. I can feel the warmth from his body radiating across the mattress and sheets. We will stay like this for another five minutes, at the very most. But it’s still a victory for me. I have convinced him to stay longer. He never will control me.  
\---  
“Well, I never really thought that you’d come tonight. Not when the crown hangs heavy on either side.”  
We have a nightly rendezvous at the river. Once all the generals have put out their campfires, I know that I can find Roderich sitting on the small, stone bridge roughly equidistant from our camps. He looks tired, more so than usual. War has never been his forte. The thought of being caught sneaking out to meet with the enemy makes it all worse.  
“That just means that I have to be here, that I have to be with you.” I sit down next to him.   
Our legs swing over the bridge and the soles of our boots skim the river’s surface. Roderich smiles. His head falls onto my shoulder.  
“Any sane man would be able to see that it should be the other side around.”  
“And I was sane before I fell in love with you. Clearly this is your fault.”  
Roderich’s breath hitches. “Don’t say that.”  
“Say what?” I laugh. “That I love you? That I don’t care who’s side you’re on or what you’re fighting for? That I’m not even paying attention during practices and drills because all I can think about is you?”  
He frowns. “You’re not taking this serious, Gilbert.”  
“You’re taking it too seriously.”  
“I don’t have a death wish.”  
“You could have fooled me.” He shifts and I seize the opportunity to hold him in front of me, to hold our lips centimeters apart. “Give me one last kiss. While we’re still far too young to die.”  
“Far too young to die?”  
“I know we’ve been around for a while, but we still look a hell of a lot better than those old kooks that actually age.”  
Roderich pulls away. “You need to get some self control. This fixation isn’t good.”  
“Fixation or psychosis?” Unable to reach his face, I kiss the back of his hand. While his eyes roll, the corners of his mouth rise in a sly smile.  
“Definitely, the latter. Although I don’t think there’s much of a difference.”  
“Probably not,” I agree. “At this point, I am beyond doubt devoted to neurosis.”  
He raises an eyebrow. “Neurosis? I thought you devoted yourself to me.”  
“Oh liebe, you are neurosis. My neurosis.”  
He’s off guard now and I’m able to steal my kiss. It’s small, but sweet and graceful -- a little bit like Roderich, himself.


End file.
